


Writer's Block

by SurpySoup



Category: Original Work
Genre: College Student, Drug Addiction, Explicit Language, Hallucinations, Insomnia, Romance Author, Writer's Block
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 20:16:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SurpySoup/pseuds/SurpySoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikal Everette struggles with his next book and hires a college student, Alfonse Delaney, in hopes of gleaning inspiration from him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Help Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be for my NaNoWriMo...but I didn't get very far. I'll finish it up on here, though.

                Mikal chewed on the end of his cigarette, grimacing at the foul taste that resulted from it. He squinted his eyes as he stared at the computer screen—the bright backlight was beginning to cause him a headache. Grunting, he clicked the mouse button and posted the message he’d just finished working on.

**Help Wanted**

Looking for someone to act as a muse for inspiration.

Requirements include: Knowledge of the English language, plenty of time on their hands, and a working mode of transportation. Expect and be able to meet with me at any time, when I call for you. Phone calls will be frequent.

Payment will be negotiated upon meeting.

It was a short ad, but it got his point across—or so he hoped. His contact information was listed below the actual ad. He glanced at his phone, almost hoping it would start ringing. It didn’t, of course.

                “Were you actually expecting a response already? No one’s even had time to see your ad!”

                Mikal rolled his eyes and sighed, leaning back in his chair. His left hand swiped up something from the desk, a little lighter, flicking to life a tiny flame. He lit his cigarette and drew in, then blew out a healthy cloud of smoke. Or not so healthy. Either way, smoking began. He checked the time. It was shortly after 1 in the afternoon.

                “Do you _have_ to smoke those inside? Your whole apartment reeks.”

                The toffee colored man looked to his right, glaring at a dark gray cat that was sitting on the arm of his sofa. It seemed to be glaring back at him. As if in defiance, Mikal purposefully blew a cloud of smoke into the air, watching it hit the ceiling and spread. The cat merely mewled in irritation and hopped off of the couch, padding into another room. Finally, silence. Then his eye caught sight of something else—something he wasn’t really in the mood to deal with.

                “Oh come _on._ You too?” He groaned, rocking his chair back onto all four of its legs. He rubbed his forehead, staring at the brilliant orange pumpkin that was smiling at him from the kitchen. The Scarecrow wobbled on its awkward pole, then spun around and disappeared around the corner. “I do not need this today! The deadline’s in two months, and to be honest, I don’t even have a plot to work with!”

                “Whose fault is that?” A snooty reply came from the bedroom. The cat was staring at him from the bedroom door.

                “Go to bed or something, Fluffybutt.”

                The cat upturned its nose and stood, about-faced, and proceeded into the bedroom. The bed creaked to let the man in the living room know that his cat was, in fact, going to bed. Mikal was fine with that. He glanced at the kitchen doorway, but didn’t see the scarecrow. It might’ve gone onto the tiny back patio. Maybe. Mikal hoped. He wanted to be able to smoke in peace.

                He sat there at his desk, rocking back and forth in the chair as he waited for his phone to do something. He finished off the cigarette and considered lighting another, but the silence was enjoyable and he figured he didn’t _need_ to smoke another cigarette so quickly. Today could actually be a nice day.

 

                He must have dozed off or something, because he snapped his head up to the sound of his cellphone vibrating against the desk. It was dancing around, threatening to slide itself right onto the floor, when he slapped and grabbed at it in his confused state. He flipped it open without looking to see who it was and, as he wiped at his face to try and clear his sleepiness out of it, answered the phone.

                “Hello?”

                “Mikal, my man. Please tell me you’ve got some good news!”

                It was his agent, and he definitely was not in the mood to talk to him right now. He sighed, quietly and half-hoping the other man couldn’t hear it, before answering tentatively.

                “Good news? Well, sure. My favorite basketball team won their match last night—“

                “Not about _that_ , though that is wonderful, but you know what I’m talking about!”

                Mikal closed his eyes and leaned back again, “Okay, yeah. But no. I don’t have anything to tell you just yet.”

                “Mikal! Your deadline is in two months! I mean, sure I can probably talk to the publishers about getting it extended, but I’d have to have some kind of proof that you’re actually _working_ on something before I can even _think_ about asking them!”

                “Yes, I know. I’m working on it, don’t worry..”

                “Don’t worry? I’m not worried! I mean, hell. This isn’t _my_ career on the line here..”

                “I’ll have something for you soon. I’ll contact you. In the meantime, Benny..Please, don’t call to harass me about it.”

                The man on the other line let out a long sigh, loudly, probably to make sure Mikal heard it, before he replied, “Look, kid. I like ya a lot. But you gotta get it together. Have you _seen_ anybody about your condition?”

                “Don’t need to. I’ll keep in touch. Bye.”

                Mikal hung up the phone before his agent could say anything, and he dropped it back onto the desk. He sat there in silence, finally beginning to fully wake up. He realized, slowly, that he needed to go to the bathroom. He glanced around, checking for Scarecrow or the cat, and didn’t see either of them. Gideon, the cat, was probably still on the bed, asleep. The scarecrow might be in the kitchen. Didn’t matter. Time to relieve himself. He stood quickly and almost scared himself into colliding with the Scarecrow when he found it standing just behind his chair, watching him. He almost cried out, but began repeating to himself, ‘ _Doesn’t exist. Keep going.’_ ~~~~

He almost wanted to lock the bathroom door, since there was one time the scarecrow came in while he was taking a leak. However, he didn’t lock it this time, his need to pee taking priority over his paranoia and mental trickery. As far as he was concerned, he had nothing to worry about while he had his back turned.

                Flush the toilet, wash the hands, exit the bathroom…Make sure the cat is still sleeping on the bed, _yes he is_ , and continue back to the living room. He went into the kitchen to get something to eat, a sandwich, maybe, and didn’t see the scarecrow anywhere. He fixed himself a turkey and mustard sandwich, a glass of water, and some potato chips, then went back to the living room. His computer screen flashed with his screen saver and he slapped the mouse to wake it back up. Aside from the help ad, he had a blank word document opened. Just in case he suddenly had any inspiration. So far he hadn’t. He sat back in his chair and ate his food, staring at the blank page.

                “See, this is why I need a helper,” he said aloud around a mouth full of turkey and bread, “so that when I reach a point like this, I can just poke their brain for opinions.”

                “That doesn’t always work!” Gideon shouted from the bedroom.

                “I thought you were asleep!” Mikal yelled back. He took another bite of his sandwich, and went on, “Besides, it’d work well enough in this case. I just need to figure out if I want to start working on a sequel of the last book, make it into a series, or start an entirely different story with new characters and plot.”

                “All your books have the same plot. Girl meets boy, girl falls for boy, drama ensues, then they fuck.”

                “Shut up. You know people love it like that.”

                “Boooooooring.”

                Mikal frowned, not responding to his cat, and finished off his sandwich. He just glared at the screen now. People didn’t like boring, no. But would they really think his books were boring? Most romance novels were the same, after all. There wasn’t much room to deviate. And, hell, people still bought his novels, so he must have been doing _something_ right. He sat in silence again, staring at the computer screen. He knew the bestsellers weren’t exactly conventional. Like, what was that new novel that came out? He didn’t really care, but he’d heard ladies in the grocery store talk about how taboo it was, talking about bondage and such. 

                “Well, I could always write about bondage!” Mikal laughed, tilting his head to listen for a response. Of course, he didn’t really get one. His cat apparently had more pressing matters to attend to. “Oh, seriously? You’ll talk to me when I don’t want you to, but when I’m actually trying to have a conversation with you, you shut up? Lousy animal…”

                He looked forward again, frowning into the pumpkin face of his scarecrow friend. His expression flattened as it stared back. Its head had been smashed in one place, not by Mikal, and some of the orange goop of pumpkin guts was spilling from the top. But its carved in face was happy as ever, as though it never occurred to it that it was losing its innards. It also didn’t seem terribly bothered that its arms were nothing but empty sleeves of a denim shirt with gloves sewn to the cuffs. Or that its body was just slightly stuffed with straw to give it some form.

                “How did I ever get stuck with you, anyway?” Mikal asked it as he crossed his arms. “Gideon I can understand, he’s my pet. But you? I don’t even have a garden.”

                The scarecrow’s arms flopped onto the desk, not making a sound or knocking anything over. Mikal’s frown deepened and he looked away. He was getting tired of sitting at the desk, and Scarecrow here was starting to piss him off. He stood up and walked over to the couch, plopped down, and grabbed the remote from the armrest. Television always made the day go by quicker. 


	2. Work Needed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might switch between calling one of the characters Al or Delaney... His full name is Alfonse Delaney, but I like his last name more than his first. Al gets boring to type all the time. Just a heads-up.

It had been nearly a week since Mikal had put out the ad. He’d even gone around town and put… flyers up everywhere, hoping to get someone’s attention faster. No one seemed really that interested, even though he’d noticed that a few of the notices had been taken down, he could only hope that it was because someone took them to consider taking the job. Otherwise, he’d be a little upset. Maybe.

                Today… Mikal didn’t bother getting out of bed. He didn’t feel any more like writing than he did last week. It was a depressing thought. Even his cat had nothing to say. He hadn’t seen the scarecrow today, maybe because he didn’t get out of bed. He glanced at his alarm clock through half-lidded eyes. He wanted to stay in bed and sleep all day, and it looked like he was well on his way to accomplishing that. 2 PM already. He felt the bed jolt as he was closing his eyes again, and the cat jumped off of the bed and ran into the living room.

                Then there was a knock at the door. Mikal groaned, and the knock came again. He finally threw the covers off and grumbled as he stood up, scratching his stubbly face. He was in boxers, and that was it, and he had no fucks to give. The knocking persisted, which did not bring Mikal to the door any faster. He took his sweet time crossing the whole room to the door. Then he opened it to brilliant blue eyes set in a shockingly pale face.

                “Can I help you?” Mikal asked, leaning on his doorframe. It was a boy standing at his door—well, maybe not a boy. He looked like he might attend the college in town. So, young adult. Twenties, at the least. And he looked pristine. It was almost disgusting. He figured there probably wasn’t a single split end in the blond hair atop his pretty little head.

                “Are you Mikal Everette?” The boy asked, pronouncing it as ‘Michael’, which caused the darker man to wince.

                “Mikal.” Careful to emphasize the correct pronunciation ‘Me-Kel’, then a single, “yes” came next.

                “Sorry. I’m here about your want ad,” the young man continued, and fumbled a folded piece of paper from his bag. He held it up—one of Mikal’s ads from around town. “I’m interested in the job, if you’ll have me.”

                Mikal frowned, looking over the paper, then the young man. He let out a sigh and rubbed his hand over his face, dragging it through the tangled locks of his dreads. “Kid, look… I dunno if you know what I write--“

                “I do, though. Romance novels. Very popular ones, at that.”

                “—yes. And that’s my point. Romance novels, between a man and a woman…” he trailed off, suddenly feeling awkward at having to explain this.

                “Yes?” the boy pressed, his eyebrows furrowing. “I’m still confident in my ability to help you.”

                Mikal blinked, then looked away. He was quiet for a moment and then gestured the boy into the apartment. “Alright, fine. I’ll see what we can do… At the very least I can have you recount tales of escapades with your girlfriends.”

                The blond boy followed Mikal into the apartment, pausing at the door as it shut. Mikal continued on, disappearing in the bedroom momentarily. He returned with a pair of shorts and a baggy tee-shirt. He pointed at the couch, and the blond took a seat while Mikal sat in his computer chair. He glanced around, noting the scarecrow was still out of sight. His cat had returned to the bed and would hopefully remain quiet during this meeting.

                “So, what’s your name?” Mikal began as he snatched up his cigarettes and pulled one free.

                “Delaney.”

                “That’s it?”

                “Alfonse Delaney, but I prefer Delaney.”

                Mikal nodded slowly, lighting the cigarette. He was silent as he thoughtfully puffed at it, then flicked the ashes into a nearby ashtray.

                “Alright, Delaney. What do you do?”

                Alfonse Delaney sat up straighter, moving his bag from his lap. Mikal took a moment to look the boy over, noting his button-down shirt tucked into blue jeans, and a decent-colored belt. He looked nice—too nice to be here. Then Mikal’s mind wandered to what the boy’s parents could look like, his heritage, because his hair was unusually blond and his eyes seemed extremely blue. And are those freckles on his nose?

                “You realize he’s been talking this entire time, don’t you?” a voice whispered behind Mikal. It almost caused him to jump out of his chair, but instead he covered it by flicking ashes from the end of his cigarette. He looked at Delaney and noticed that yes, the boy had been talking this entire time.

                “—But that’s years down the road, so until then I’m just looking for a part time job to help me pay rent and living expenses,” Al finished explaining, and looked patiently at Mikal.

                “…I’m sorry. What is it again? The short version. I zoned out.”

                Al frowned, his lips pulling into a thin line. “I’m a college student.”

                Mikal nodded slowly, scratching at his stubble. “Alright. I can work with this. Do you drive?”

                “I have a Vespa.”

                “Good enough…” He thought of what else he could ask about, pausing to tend to his cigarette again. As he blew out smoke, he flicked the ashes, “You 21?” at Al’s nod, he continued. “Got a girlfriend?”

                Al seemed hesitant before shaking his head. “No, I don’t.”

                “We’ll figure something out.” Mikal kicked his feet up onto his desk, gaze following the dark gray cat as it left his bedroom. He frowned as it rubbed itself against the leg of his chair. “Cat person?”

                “Never had any, but I don’t have a problem with it,” the blond said quietly, reaching forward to stroke the cat’s back and shoulders.

                “I like this one, can he stay?”  the feline purred, looking over at Mikal. The colored man frowned further, ignoring it.

                Mikal stood up suddenly and went into the kitchen. He didn’t motion for Delaney to follow, leaving him in the living room with the cat. The Scarecrow was sitting in the corner and spun around to look at the author. Mikal stared at it for a moment then went about his business fixing a cup of coffee.

                “Well, you aren’t exactly what I’m looking for, but… I suppose we can make it work. We can always make changes along the way if we need to,” Mikal called from the kitchen, watching the dark brown liquid fall into his mug. He sighed. “I’ll need you to come here every day after classes are over. We’ll discuss your pay tomorrow when you come over, and we’ll talk about your duties.”

                Delaney appeared at the doorway just as Mikal was returning. They almost collided, but luckily did not. Hot coffee did not go everywhere, thank goodness. Delaney flushed, but still looked excited. He’d just got the job.

                “Don’t do any of that shit—“ Mikal gestured between them, indicating the near collision, “and we’ll be good.”

                “Yes. Sorry. Okay. Did you want to discuss anything today?” Delaney asked, taking a step out of the doorway.

                Mikal shook his head and took a sip. “Nope. My company is starting to rile up. I’ll need you to leave.”

                The boy looked confused, for obvious reasons. He couldn’t see anyone else in the apartment aside from the gray cat. Mikal seemed to be staring off into space, or at something the blond just couldn’t see. When Mikal didn’t say anything more, and just stood there focused on something, sipping his coffee, Delaney took his bag and moved to the door.

                “Okay. Well… I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

                Mikal raised his cup in gesture, slowly turning his gaze to the door as Delaney left. Then he looked where he was staring again. The Scarecrow was staring back at him, his carvings different, angry, and so foreign. It didn’t look happy at all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll fix the name-switching one day...


	3. Business

The next day, Delaney got up and went to class like normal. He was nervous the entire day, checking his phone. It was his first real day on the job, his first day to prove he can be of use to the writer. He was obviously distracted, and didn’t even bother stopping by to see any of his friends after his last class let out. On his way to his mo-ped, he called his mother. She had to know he had a job, at least.

                “Hello?” his mother’s high-pitched voice rang out from the other line. He smiled to himself as he fumbled with his helmet and keys.

                “Hey, Mom. How are you?”

                “I’m good, sweetie. What’s up? I thought you had class?”

                Delaney sat down but didn’t crank the Vespa. He just sat with his helmet in his lap. “No, Mom… I’m done with classes right now. Remember? I e-mailed you my schedule last night.”

                “Oh right, well. Any luck on the job situation? There’s no rush, for sure. I’m.. I’m just curious, you know?”

                “Yes. About that. I’m actually going to be meeting with someone today. I think I have a job.”

                “Oh! That’s good! What will you be doing?”

                “Um. Helping a writer,” the blond mumbled, “I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to be doing, but he said he’d pay well…”

                “A writer? Who? Anyone famous?” His mother sounded particularly interested. He could practically hear her scooting to the edge of her seat.

                “Mikal Everette. He writes romance novels… Actually, you own a lot of his works,” he explained, stifling a bit of a smile. He knew his mom was a fan.

                And she squealed. “Really! You’re going to be working with _the_ Mikal Everette? What’s he like? He must be positively dreamy!”

                “Eh, Mom. Stop it. He’s not that great. He actually looks a bit like a slob, but that might be because he’s under pressure. I dunno. Maybe I can convince him to let you meet him.”

                “That’d be wonderful! I’m so excited! Oh, and congratulations on landing a job! I’m so proud of you, sweetie!”

                “Aaah, thanks, Mom.. Well, I better go. I’m supposed to meet with Mr. Everette now. I love you!”

                “Love you too, sweetie! Do good! Mwah!”

                And the two hung up. Al Delaney put his phone in his bag and put his helmet on, then started his Vespa. It purred to live, then scooter-noised out into the street. It took him a good while maneuvering through traffic and winding down side streets before he was able to get on the correct road. Mikal Everette lived pretty much smack dab in the center of the city… In an apartment complex that was nestled in a shady nook. It looked seedy, but at the same time… Pleasant.

                Al parked his Vespa at the foot of the stairs that were right in front of Mikal’s room, and proceeded under them. He knocked on the door, number 114. There was silence. Then meowing. No one came to the door, though. He tried knocking again, looking around nervously. He was expected, wasn’t he? The meowing came in response again, but no one answered. He jiggled the doorknob and found that it was unlocked. Strange. Well, he was expected.

                He pushed the door open cautiously, looking down at his feet. The gray cat was purring and trying to wind around Delaney’s feet, but he was walking so it was impossible. The blond went ahead and closed the door, frowning. The apartment was quiet.

                “Mister Everette?” Delaney called, setting his bag and helmet down next to the door. No response. He ventured further in, peering into the kitchen.

                The kitchen was pretty much spotless, except for a half-eaten sandwich sitting on the counter. He blinked at it. Then he noticed the bright orange pill bottle on the counter, cap closed, but it was noticeably running low on pills. His frown deepened as he walked over to it and picked it up, examining the label. _Zolpidem._ Sleep aid.

                He heard some ruckus in the bedroom and turned, setting the bottle back on the counter. His head poked out of the kitchen curiously. Mikal was going from the bedroom to the bathroom down the hall. Naked. Delaney drew back into the kitchen quickly, his eyes wide. Perhaps he shouldn’t mention that to his new boss. He attempted to casually walk into the living room to sit on the couch and wait for the man to exit the bathroom—hopefully clothed.

                Which he did not. Mikal was apparently unaware that Delaney had arrived and strode from the bathroom proudly nude. Delaney’s eyes widened considerably, which was a feat as they were already opened pretty far. They made eye contact for what seemed like hours. Then Mikal crossed his arms over his chest and quirked his eyebrow.

                “Stare while you can, kid. Guess this is the last time I’ll be walking around comfortable,” Mikal grumbled, though he didn’t seem all that put off by the situation.

                Delaney’s cheeks and ears were quite hot, but he couldn’t help staring. It’d been the first time since meeting the man that he’d really seen him comfortable, apparently. And he wasn’t terribly bad looking. He was sure plenty of women would like the rich toffee-caramel brown color of his skin. He was certain it was more appealing than his fair complexion.

                “How are you so… at _ease_ , standing there?” Al asked quietly, bringing his eyes up to meet Mikal’s. It was distracting. Sexual preference aside, the older man had a surprisingly nice body.

                Mikal leaned against the door frame of his bedroom, watching Al’s eyes as they tried their hardest to stay focused on his face. He stuck out his lower jaw, shifted it around as he thought a bit, then shrugged his shoulders. “I just stopped caring. Get stared at every day, who cares if it’s while I’m naked. I’m not ashamed of anything…” he smirked and gestured to himself, “Would you be?”

                Al Delaney coughed some, looking away before his eyes were drawn by the sweep of Mikal’s hand. He merely shrugged. Mikal laughed and scratched the light dusting of hair on his chest as he turned back to the bedroom. He returned moments later with a pair of sweatpants on. That was probably it. As he walked over to his desk, he was pulling his long dreads into a thick holder.

                “Well, good, you came in on time,” Mikal began, grinning. He looked at a coffee mug that was sitting near his laptop and grimaced. “Guess we’ll talk about what you’re expected to do.”

                He picked up the mug and held it out to Delaney. He stood and grabbed it, glanced down and blanched, then looked back up at Mikal. The mixed man was pointing at the kitchen. Delaney frowned, then sighed, and walked into the kitchen. Wash the mug. He did just that, then returned to the living room. Mikal had opened his laptop and was clicking at something, which piqued Delaney’s curiosity. He moved around behind Mikal and peered over his shoulder. He was just checking the news.

                “You know… My mom is a big fan of yours,” Delaney blurted, blinking.

                “Y’don’t say.”

                “She thinks your work is the best on the planet.”

                “Does she now.”

                “How far have you gotten in your next novel?”

                Mikal didn’t have a snarky response, and instead opened a document on his computer. There were a few words, which included the first draft of a title, and the first few lines of the first chapter. Not much to go by. Delaney frowned, glancing at Mikal’s blank expression. He noted, idly, that Mikal looked extremely tired, despite him just getting up (maybe).

                “Needs work.”

                “Yes. I know.”

                Delaney straightened and tapped his chin. “Well, what’s the plot supposed to be?”

                “Same as always. Probably a vacation. Exotic erotic fantasy seems to be what women like these days,” Mikal yawned, leaning back in his chair.

                “You don’t want to try something else?”

                The older man looked at Delaney, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Like what? I write what I know.”

                “Well... You write regular romance, right? Well, why not try something supernatural? I know that a lot of younger women are into vampires right now.”

                Mikal’s expression was nearly venomous as Delaney spoke. Apparently the only thing that got to him was talking about his writing. Who knew. Delaney frowned and stepped back, moving to sit on the couch. He crossed his arms as Mikal sat up and closed his laptop. The older man stood up and went into the bedroom, grabbing a jacket and sandals. Then he was marching to the door as he put the jacket on, and paused to beckon Delaney over.

                “Come on. We’re going for a walk.”

                “A walk, what? Why?” Delaney blurted at once as he obeyed. A walk hardly seemed useful when the man should have been writing.

                “Clears my head, and things are getting to rowdy here.”

                Silence fell over the two as they left the apartment. Mikal pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it as they stepped onto the sidewalk. They didn’t talk much, mainly because every time Delaney tried to strike up conversations, he’d be shut down by one word answers if a response was given at all. They entered the town proper after a good while of leisurely strolling, Mikal going through his entire cigarette at an alarming rate. By the time they got onto the main road, he was starting his second cigarette.

                “Tell me a story.” Mikal broke their silence suddenly, since Delaney had given up trying to talk.

                He was taken aback, though, and blinked up at the taller man. “A story? What?”

                “Exactly that. Tell me a story. Surely you’ve got some. Somethin’ juicey.”

                Delaney watched as Mikal flicked his used cigarette onto the road and a car ran over it. Then he bit his lip and looked away. He had no stories. He was in his mid-twenties and still a virgin.

                Mikal looked over at Delaney as he got no response, a grin slowly spreading over his lips as realization dawned. “You’re a virgin, huh.” It wasn’t even a question.

                “So? It’s not that big of a deal. I haven’t had time to get close to anyone—“

                “Not even to fuck? Jesus, kid, you’re killin’ me.” Mikal laughed, starting to reach into his jacket pocket for another cigarette, but decided against it.

                Delaney’s lips drew into a thin line, his eyebrows almost meeting. He was beginning to regret taking this job, but he really needed the money. They turned off of the road into a parking lot, heading towards a little convenience store. Mikal bought a soda, asked if Delaney wanted anything, then bought himself a candy bar. They left with Mikal snacking and Delaney seething.

                “So, if you’ve never even boned anyone, how do you think you’ll be able to help me out?” Mikal asked around his candy bar. He looked at Delaney out of the corner of his eye as he gulped down soda, smug.

                Delaney shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Figured I could help you freshen up your stuff. I hear about everything you write because my mom reads it all. It’s old news. Your audience is aging, and eventually you’ll run out of people interested in your novels because you cater to one demographic.”

                “And you’re an expert? How do you know no one new is picking up my books?”

                “I’ve seen them on the shelves. No one goes for the old stuff. Your newer ones sometimes get attention. You need to update your novels.”

                “How do you propose I do that?”

                “That’s where I come in. Like I was saying earlier, you find out what’s hot now. Vampires and the supernatural. It’s pretty easy to get into it, the lore is huge…”

                Mikal crumbled his candy wrapper and stuck it in his jacket pocket. “What if I don’t want to write about vampires?”

                “Then I can find out what else women my age are interested in. If you can get a younger generation interested, it’d do you a lot of good.”

                “We’ll see. Ask around, then. When we get back to the apartment, you’re free to go home.”

                The discussion ended there, as Mikal occupied himself finishing his soda. Delaney was feeling a little bit better about this job thing.


	4. Footwork

The next day, Delaney went to class as normal, but his mind was preoccupied. He had his first real assignment with Mikal, and he didn’t want to disappoint. After classes were done, he went into the Student Union, the central hub of all student activities. That was where the café was located, and that was where every student passed through on their way to lunch or class. It was the perfect place for Al to prepare his survey. As he walked through the crowds, heading toward the tables set up outside the café, he spotted a few of his friends at the tables.

                 “Hey, Al, how’s the new job going?” Emily, a perky brunette, asked as he approached their table.

                Delaney set his bag down on the floor as he slid into an empty seat, “It’s going good. I’m actually… Doing some research today. Tell me, what would you be interested in reading in a romance novel?”  
                “What?” Emily laughed, looking over to their other friend, a quieter blond named Rorie. “What do you mean?”

                “Well, let’s say, hypothetically, that there was a romance author trying to please a new demographic of readers—namely, a younger generation of females,” Delaney gestured at Emily and Rorie, “and was willing to accommodate to their interests, if only they knew what they were.”

                Rorie piped, “So, like… If we’re into the vampires seducing their victims and falling for one special woman and deciding to turn them into a vampire so they can live together in eternity as two deadly and pure lovers?”

                Emily and Delaney both stared at Rorie as the blond blushed, but Delaney nodded. “Like that. So, vampires. What about you, Emily?”

                Emily shrugged, looking away. She tried to feign disinterest, “I mean, I dunno. I’m not really into the whole romance thing. It always seems too cheesy, too good to be true. Cliché. Y’know?”

                Delaney quirked a brow and tilted his head, staring at her intently. Eventually she gave in, her cheeks coloring. “Okay, okay. I really like the rugged outdoorsy man. Like, one who knows their thing of the wilderness. Saves the woman from dangers, keeps her warm at night…”

                “Alright, so vampires and outdoorsmen,” Delaney leaned back in his chair as he reached down into his bag, pulling out a little notebook. He scribbled a few notes into it. “What else? Like, what’s hip among the womenfolk these days?”

                “Gosh, you know everyone’s going on about the werewolf series that’s recently flown, right?” Rorie suddenly leaned forward, slapping her hand on the table. She startled both Emily and Delaney, which caused her to grin broadly. “But yeah. It’s about a clan of werewolves. It’s not romance, but it’s –really- big.”

                “So you think supernatural would fly on the market?”

                “It’s worth a shot. Problem is, what if the market’s saturated with supernatural and it all becomes boring and no one wants to read it anymore?” Emily asked, getting comfortable in her chair. “If everything has the same topic and setting, no one’s going to be interested in reading about it.”

                “What about _elves_?” Rorie asked, getting giggly. “Everybody loves elves!”

                Emily smirked, “They’re whimsical enough to have a sort of mysterious romance about them.”

                Delaney smiled as the two girls talked, writing in his notebook. He hoped this would be enough for Mikal to go off of, but right now, it was all he had. He didn’t really have the guts to walk up to random women and ask them such a strange and forward question. Emily and Rorie went on with these ideas for a good while, helping the time to slip right passed Delaney. It was almost five in the evening before Delaney realized he was late meeting with Mikal. He let out a quiet curse as he shot up in his chair, nearly falling out of it, and grabbed his bag.

                “What’s the rush, guy?” Emily asked, watching Delaney stand in a hurry.

                “I’m late for work! But I appreciate all the help you’ve both given!” Delaney called as he rushed out of the student union.

                As he ran, Delaney stuffed his notebook back into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. He fished his keys from his pocket and ran across campus to where his Vespa was parked. In all honesty, he didn’t know if he actually had a reason to be worried. He wasn’t sure Mikal was even awake, even though he probably should have been.

                Traffic wasn’t terrible, so it didn’t take Delaney too long to navigate the neighborhood streets to get to Mikal’s apartment building. He parked and removed his helmet as he approached the door to his boss’s apartment. He was on the verge of a panic attack as he knocked, and his heart nearly jumped from his chest when he heard a curt ‘Come in!’ as a reply. So, Mikal was awake.

                Delaney cracked the door open at first, briefly wondering if the caramel-colored man ever locked it, and then entered the apartment. Mikal was at his desk, typing away on his laptop. Delaney’s panic turned into surprise, then pride. It appeared that the writer was doing what he was supposed to be doing: writing.

                “Inspiration hit?” Delaney asked as he set his things down by the front door.

                Mikal grunted, shrugging a shoulder. He grabbed at the can of beer that was sitting next to the laptop and took a swig. “Sort of. It’s nothing important. Sex scene. Decided to just write one of my fantasies. Great idea, right?”

                Delaney sat on the couch and began petting the gray cat that was curled up against the armrest. “Better than nothing, I suppose.”

                “Didn’t you mention something you were planning on doing when you went back to class?” Mikal asked absently, not turning to look at Delaney. It seemed he was really into the moment he was writing.

                Delaney made a noise, then stood and went back to his bag. He pulled out his little notebook and flipped to the page he’d written most of Emily and Rorie’s conversation on. “Yeah, I got some information from a couple of my friends on campus. They both had some really interesting input. Mostly leaning toward a supernatural or fantasy genre, vampires, werewolves, elves.”

                “Bah… Werewolves. Isn’t there a new series out that’s focusing on werewolves? I’d never be able to compete with something huge like that,” Mikal grumbled, narrowing his eyes at the screen, “and vampires? I hate vampires.”

                Delaney frowned, his hands dropping to his sides. “Well, it’s at least something to consider. It’s better than not having anything to go from at all.”

                Mikal shrugged and leaned back in his chair, taking a small break. He finished off the beer and crushed the can, tossing it into a pile of aluminum cans near the trashcan. “I guess. But it’s all so overdone. However, elves. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of elves being used in my field. At least not terribly often. Usually just falls into the fantasy-slash-adventure genre.”

                Delaney nodded and leaned forward. He skimmed the document Mikal had been working on, his eyes darting from left to right. “Are you planning on using this in anything?”

                “It’s a threesome. I suppose I could use it in the new novel. Turn one of these people into an elf and I’m set.”

                “Well, you could make the two women elves. That’d be hot.” Delaney agreed.

                Mikal chuckled, looking up at Delaney. “I like your style, kid. I think I’ll keep you around.”


	5. Nightmare

                Delaney had stayed at Mikal’s until late that evening, the two of them laughing and talking about this brainstorm of a plot idea involving a human man stumbling into elven territory and meeting the two, gorgeous elven priestesses. It sounded like a brilliant idea, until somewhere close to midnight, Mikal’s mood suddenly plummeted. He even went so far as to make Delaney leave, almost yelling at the college student. Delaney obeyed, of course, fearing for his job. It left Mikal at home, alone with his cat and the scarecrow that had started pestering him while he was fleshing out the three main characters.

                “Normally, I don’t have a problem with you…” Mikal hissed, glaring at his computer screen. In the reflection, he could see the pumpkin head of his haunter. The scarecrow had been literally hovering over his shoulder for the past hour, not doing anything but staring at the screen. It was like the damn thing was judging him.

                “Oh, come off it. He doesn’t mean any harm,” Gideon purred from the couch.

                Mikal growled, not unlike an agitated canine, and stood from the desk. “I didn’t ask for your two cents, cat.”

                The man walked into the bedroom at a brisk pace, entering the bathroom from the adjoining hallway. He didn’t bother closing the door, knowing the scarecrow was right behind him every step of the way, and relieved himself. He flushed, washed his hands, and ignored the scarecrow as he exited the bathroom. As he passed through its flimsy body and the pole it balanced on.

                “Damnit all…” Mikal hissed, rubbing at his forehead. His pace quickened as he left the bedroom and made a beeline for the kitchen. His pill bottle was on the counter, as usual, and he popped off the cap. He didn’t even count how many of the little pills fell out into his upturned palm, and tossed them all into his mouth. He needed sleep. That’s all. Once he got some rest, the scarecrow would go away, and Gideon would stop talking to him.

                “You know that doesn’t work, Mikal!” Gideon called from the living room, laughter on his voice. Mikal slammed his fist against the counter, swallowing his pills. He grabbed a nearby cup, a cup he always kept nearby to wash down his nightly dosage, and emptied it into his mouth to chase the zolpidem.

                He walks into the living room, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. A headache was beginning to form in his temple, spreading across the top of his head. It didn’t help his mood at all. He plopped violently onto the couch and closed his eyes as he leaned his head back. His hands came up to cover his eyes because, even with them closed, he felt like he could still see the scarecrow grinning at him.

                “Go away…” he grumbled.

                Gideon shifted on the cushion next to him, “Who are you talking to?”

                “The scarecrow. I want him gone.”

                Gideon sat up and began cleaning himself, and there was no response to Mikal’s demand. The writer sat up some with a rough exhalation, his eyes bleary as he opened them. The scarecrow was still in front of him, still grinning. The man stood up quickly, wobbling on his feet. The medicine was probably kicking in about now. Who knows, with how much he took. He wasn’t even sure. He put a hand against his head, trying to push the headache out of it even though that didn’t work. The scarecrow swayed after him, and Mikal could swear he heard a quiet, high pitched, laugh following him from the living room to the bedroom.

                He undressed sloppily, a grogginess setting in before the pills really hit him. He flopped onto his bed, unable to really get himself under the covers, but boxers were enough to keep him warm tonight, surely. His head wasn’t even on the pillow when he fell asleep.

                His sleep wasn’t restful, either. He tossed and turned, tangling himself in the comforter he wasn’t under. His pillows ended up on the floor, soon followed by the blanket, and then himself. Gideon came sometime in the night and curled up in the center of the bed, now that it was unoccupied. Plenty of space for a cat to sleep. Mikal felt like he woke up, but when he looked around, things weren’t quite right. His bedroom had the wrong lighting, the walls were the wrong color, his bed was perfectly made. That’s what really threw him off—he’s never made his bed. It was a moment in which he knew he was dreaming, but couldn’t quite figure out how to wake up.

                So, in his dream, he stood up from the floor and pushed his hair out of his face. He decided to simply go to the living room, and perhaps there he could wait out the dream and wake up. In the living room, however, he was greeted by the scarecrow, now with a more substantial form, sitting on the couch. It looked at Mikal, its empty carving-eyes wide and menacing. It was weird—usually the pumpkin head had apathetic eyes, just plain triangles cut into the orange flesh. These were angled into scowls, glares, and it was terrifying with the triangle-teeth grin that was customary for the pumpkin scarecrow. It was on the couch, watching tv, yet its eyes were focused on Mikal. So the caramel-colored man decided to ignore it, to move into the kitchen, and maybe something there would trigger awakening. Instead, there was no kitchen, and there was no bedroom behind him. It was only the living room, with the scarecrow. The television cut off quite suddenly, and then vanished. Mikal looked at the scarecrow again, his eyes narrowing before widening. It was standing up, its usually-flimsy body now solid like a normal human being’s. It wasn’t too impressive, it looked like the body of a … well, it almost looked like Delaney’s build. Maybe that’s what gave Mikal the creeps the most. It was almost like Delaney was under the pumpkin head, acting as the scarecrow. But he knew that wasn’t the case. How could it?

                “This is ridiculous..” Mikal grumbled, looking around the room. There were no doorways, and the scarecrow was now moving towards him with deliberate steps. He wanted to back away, but at the same time didn’t think he needed to.

                It was a mistake not to move. The scarecrow lunged forward, its limbs suddenly as flimsy as always. It let out a piercing cackle, like the cliché witch’s laugh that always shows up around Halloween time. Its arms shot out at Mikal, grabbing him by the arms. It threw him against the wall, pinning him there as it got closer. Mikal struggled, tried to get out of the binding and failed. The pumpkin’s mouth opened, its teeth suddenly more and sharper than just pumpkin pieces. He was sure it was going to eat him, and in this dream state, it was horrifying. And he screamed and thrashed and tried to get out of it and get away but he couldn’t move!

                “Mikal! Stop moving and wake up!” A woman’s voice yelled, piercing through the dream.

                Everything faded, and Mikal opened his eyes to be greeted by a concerned face of a darker-colored woman. She bit her lip, eyes watery. Mikal sat up quickly and scooted away from her, catching his breath. He was covered in sweat and shaking, and his throat felt a little scratchy.

                “You were screaming…” the woman commented, her frown deepening, “Are you okay?”

                It took him a moment, but Mikal nodded. He stood up, realizing that his blanket had twisted around his arms. He quickly pulled the blanket off of him and threw it back on the bed. The woman stood up, wringing her hands as she watched Mikal walk passed her and into the bathroom.

                “What are you doing here?” Mikal asked from the bathroom as he closed the door.

                “I was just checking on you… Look, I worry about my baby brother. You haven’t been returning my calls or anything, and Mom got really concerned. She was scared the stress of your deadline coming up was getting to you.”

                “I appreciate it, Natasha, but I’m fine!” Mikal yelled from the closed bathroom.

                Natasha pursed her lips and crossed her arms, hip cocking to one side. She waited until she heard the toilet flush and the door open. “We’re your family, Mikal. You know you can tell us anything. If something’s going on…”

                Mikal shot a glare at his sister that shut her up. She wasn’t too happy about it, and returned fire with a glare of her own. Mikal continued out of the bedroom and went into the living room. He scanned the room quickly, and spotting no sign of the scarecrow, went on into the kitchen. He could hear his sister’s sigh and her heels following after him. He went ahead and began fixing coffee, even though he didn’t know what time it was. Natasha leaned on the door frame, her arms still crossed beneath her hefty bosom. Her wavy brown hair was much longer than when he last saw her, and her dark-chocolate eyes all the more scalding. He didn’t like the stare she was giving him, it made him feel like a terrible human being.

                “You were having a nightmare. Why won’t you talk to someone about it?” She asked, letting her arms fall to her sides as she moved away from the frame. She went over to the little kitchen table and pulled one of the chairs out as Mikal did the same.

                Mikal plopped down and rubbed at his face, “Because there isn’t anything to talk about.”

                “That’s a lie, baby brother.”

                The man gave a groan and he let his head drop onto the table with a loud thump. “I didn’t ask you to come here, Natasha. I don’t have anything to tell you on the matter.”

                “Are you still taking those pills?” Natasha asked suddenly. She watched her brother as his head shot up from the table and his eyes narrowed. She lifted one eyebrow. “You are? I thought you said you didn’t need them anymore. That you were sleeping much better on your own.”

                Mikal didn’t answer and looked away from her. He stood up and paced across the kitchen, stopping where his nearly-empty bottle of zolpidem was.

                “Well, I’m not. I’ve been stressed out with this deadline, and it’s hard to sleep now. Most nights it feels like I can’t sleep without it.”

                Natasha stood up and crossed the kitchen, her heels clacking loudly. She embraced her brother, trying to pull him close, but he pulled away. “Mikal… You don’t have to isolate yourself like this. Your family cares about you.”

                “I’m fine.”

                “No, you aren’t…” Natasha said quietly. She looked like she was about to cry. Instead, she turned away and left. Mikal stood very still until he heard the door slam shut.

                “There’s nothing wrong,” he finally told himself, leaning against the counter with his hands covering his eyes. 


	6. Pills Here

                Delaney had just parked his moped when he heard a door slam. He looked up in time to see a woman leaving Mikal’s apartment, wiping at her eyes. He frowned.

                “Ma’am? Is everything okay?” He asked as he removed his helmet.

                The woman stopped mid-stride, her eyes wide. She briefly reminded Delaney of a deer suddenly spotted out in a field. She straightened, wiped at her eyes one last time and took a deep breath.

                “Are you the boy Mikal hired?” she asked, her voice quivering. Delaney nodded. “You are a very lucky person. You’re the only one that man has allowed close enough to interact with him.”

                She sounded very bitter and it confused Delaney. “Oh, no, miss… All I do is act sort of like a secretary. There isn’t anything else going on between us…”

                “If there were, boy, I would be glad of it!” the woman exclaimed, laughing a little. Delaney was even more confused. She stepped closer to him, extending a hand. “I’m Natasha, Mikal’s older sister.”

                The college student closed the gap and grasped her hand gently, nodding. “Oh. I thought you were like… a lady-friend of his…”

                Natasha couldn’t help but giggle at Delaney’s blush. She ruffled his hair playfully. “You’re adorable. I’m kind of glad it’s you that he lets in. Take care of him, will you? I’m really worried about him… He’s been clinging to those sleeping pills more than I like.”

                Delaney nodded dumbly, and Natasha left. She climbed into a new-looking car, a sedan of some sort, and drove away. That left Delaney standing on the sidewalk for a while longer, blinking. Eventually, he went on into Mikal’s apartment, knocking before opening the door. He set his helmet down next to it, dropping his bag into the upturned safety devise.

                “Mister Everette?” he called out, frowning. Gideon came running from the bedroom to run into Delaney’s shins and rub against his legs. The boy knelt and began petting the cat. “I’m here for work!”

                Mikal peeked out of the kitchen, looking pissed as all get-out. He had a cup of steaming coffee clutched in one hand. “Bout damn time.”

                Mikal exited the kitchen with his coffee and walked over to his desk. He opened the laptop, powered it on, and set the mug down next to it. “Your assignment today is going to be looking over the rough draft. It’s not much, but it’ll keep you busy.”

                Delaney nodded, frowning slightly. He sat on the couch, waiting for Mikal to hand him the laptop. It seemed strange, though. Everything felt forced, like Mikal was trying really hard to not lash out at him. It made him uncomfortable.

                “I met your sister outside… Did you two have a fight or something?” Delaney asked as the laptop was set down in his lap. Mikal didn’t say a word as he went back to the desk. He plopped down and lit a cigarette, closing off all other attempts at conversation.

                Delaney frowned, but looked at the document. It was the start of exactly what they’d been talking about the night before. When had Mikal written any of this? When did he have time to? In silence, Delaney was left to look over the four pages Mikal had written. There were a few other documents up, character biographies and a five page setting description. It was rather amazing, to see Mikal’s process. He was sure his mother would kill to be in his shoes right about now.

                As with every novel, this one started out kind of slow, introducing the main character, a human named Mark. Mark stumbled upon a land unfamiliar. It kind of sounded like it might be able to move off toward a good place, to stay interesting. Delaney looked up at Mikal and watched him smoke for a moment. Then he stood up and brought the laptop over to him.

                “I think it’ll go pretty good if you keep with the adventure track,” Delaney was saying, not really paying attention to whether Mikal was listening or not. “If you keep a good amount of action, it’ll make the sex more appealing, more like a proper reward.”

                Delaney finally looked at Mikal, and found him slumped back in his chair, the cigarette hanging loosely in his lips. He was asleep. The college student started and quickly grabbed the cigarette, nearly dropping it in surprise of how hot it was (duh, it’s on fire). He shoved it into an ash tray, putting it out. Then he looked at Mikal again, frowning.

                “Mikal? Hey, wake up…” he slapped the man’s cheek lightly, like in the movies. He wasn’t sure if that actually worked, or if it was even a good idea in this situation. He definitely didn’t want Mikal to wake up and retaliate with a fist instead of an open-handed slap.

                Mikal didn’t stir and merely snored on. Delaney frowned and looked at the time. Gosh, it was well into the afternoon. Surely his boss had slept enough the night before, he shouldn’t be so exhausted as to pass out with a cigarette in his mouth. Delaney sighed, pushing his hair out of his face. He walked into the kitchen, looking around. Not entirely sure what he was going to do, he went over to the bottle of pills on the counter and picked it up. Dosage was just one pill a night should insomnia hit.

                “Mikal… How much of this did you take?” he asked himself, frowning. He pocketed the bottle without really thinking and went back into the living room.

                He sat in silence for a long time, leaving Mikal asleep in his chair. He knew that when the older man woke up he’d have one hell of a crick in his neck, but Delaney was puny and would definitely not be able to move Mikal from the chair to the bed without dropping him. So he sat and pet Gideon while he waited for Mikal to wake up.

                Except he didn’t. He twitched in his sleep every now and then, but he didn’t wake up. As a matter of fact, it was getting pretty late by now, and Delaney was going to need to head home before too long. The college kid felt a little bad thinking about leaving his boss like this… but he had class in the morning and couldn’t risk being up all night.

                Before he left, he tried to carry Mikal into the bedroom. It turned into a mix of carrying and dragging, but he somehow got the man in his bed. He left him covered up, and gave Gideon one last pat on the head. Then he glanced in the kitchen and noticed the empty food bowl as the cat meowed. Delaney sighed and jogged into the kitchen again, one hand in his pocket and fisting the pill bottle. He found the cat food and filled the bowl, much to Gideon’s delight, and even refilled the water bowl. Then Delaney left, not feeling as bad now that Mikal was actually in bed asleep. He went home with a sound conscious and a bottle of pills.


	7. Fired

Delaney kept the pills for a few days before Mikal ever noticed. He would go by the apartment every day, nervous that something would be said, though nothing ever was. Mikal was actually kind of happy, since he was on a roll with his novel. Delaney even witnessed a decent conversation between the writer and his agent. There was hope that Mikal would just… Not need the pills anymore. Then his sister wouldn’t be so worried. Delaney hoped that it would work out like that.

                However, he would have no such luck. This particular afternoon, Delaney opened the door to hear Mikal yelling at his cat. It was a little strange, of course. The college boy slipped in and set his stuff by the door as usual, and closed the front door behind him. Mikal was in the kitchen.

                “Oh, don’t you try to lie to me, you fleabag!” Mikal was screaming. There was a lot of ruckus in the kitchen. He must’ve been making coffee. “This novel is going to be brilliant. Nothing like what I’ve written before!”

                The man walked out into the living room with an empty mug, making his way to the desk. He didn’t seem to notice Delaney just yet. The blond college student frowned, noting that Mikal looked more stressed out than usual. His eyes were a little bloodshot. Was he sleeping any?

                It seemed at this moment, Mikal noticed Delaney standing at the door. “Oh, glad you could join us. Gideon was just complaining that the novel wasn’t going to be a hit.”

                Delaney cautiously walked over to the couch, sliding down onto a cushion. Mikal had just admitted to talking to his cat… And Delaney couldn’t tell if it was a joke. He smiled nervously. “Silly cat… He isn’t supposed to talk…”

                Mikal laughed and nodded, “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him for months now, but he won’t listen to me.”

                Delaney didn’t know what to do, honestly. He sat very still, his eyes wide. Briefly, he wondered if this was maybe… withdrawal symptoms of someone getting off of an addiction to sleeping medication. He had no idea, he’d never researched any of this, and none of his friends would know. Guilt panged in his chest, maybe taking the pills wasn’t such a good idea. What if something serious happens? Couldn’t people possibly die during withdrawals?

                “Say, Delaney. What do you think about the hero having a talking rabbit as a companion?” Mikal asked, his voice sounding a little giddy.

                “Um. I don’t know about that, sir… That might come off as a little weird for your readers. I mean, why would he have a talking rabbit companion?” Delaney blurted, shrugging his shoulders. He felt awkward here, now, and almost wanted to leave.

                Mikal just nodded, the nod slowly turning into the dozing nod. Delaney stood up and walked over to him, touching his shoulder. He jumped and stared, and Delaney noticed that he was holding an empty mug in his hand. “Sir, did you get any sleep last night?”

                “Oh, no. I haven’t slept for a few nights, actually. I’m either not tired… Or the scarecrow stares at me and keeps me awake. Gideon doesn’t help any, either. He’s a real motor-mouth at night.”

                “Why haven’t you slept?” Delaney asked, chewing on his lip. This was turning out to be more serious than he thought it was.

                Mikal tapped his chin, leaned back, and yawned. “I seem to have misplaced my medicine. You see, I have insomnia, and I take some sleep aid pills… To, y’know, aid me in sleeping. But I can’t find them, so I haven’t really been able to sleep. Plus, there’s Gideon complaining about every little thing—spoiled cat—and the scarecrow always following me around. I don’t trust him, I think he’s going to try to eat me.”

                “What scarecrow?”

                “Oh, that one. Right there. He’s standing in the kitchen doorway, don’t you see him?” Mikal yawned, pointing at the doorway. It was empty, and Delaney felt a pit fall in his stomach.

                He thought carefully on how he should proceed. Should he call an ambulance? His boss was hallucinating. There was no scarecrow, and the only noise Gideon was making was purring and meowing. “Sir… I don’t see a scarecrow.”

                “What?” Mikal frowned, staring at Delaney like something must be wrong with him. “What do you mean. It’s right there, standing in plain sight.”

                “There isn’t anything there,” Delaney stated again.

                The silence that followed was heavy. Delaney felt the need to back away, return to the couch, put as much distance between himself and Mikal. He stood by the armrest and reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. Mikal frowned, looking at him curiously.

                “What are you doing?”

                “I’m calling an ambulance, sir… You’re hallucinating, and I don’t really know what to do to help you.”

                Mikal suddenly stood and was across the room, grabbing Delaney’s phone. The muffled response could still be heard, ‘ _911, please state your emergency_ ’. Mikal hung up the call and threw the phone onto the couch. He had Delaney by the wrist, holding it tightly. Delaney cringed, grinding his teeth together.

                “You’re hurting me,” he hissed, trying to pull away.

                “I don’t need help,” Mikal growled, pulling Delaney towards him. He got in the boy’s face, baring his teeth. “I didn’t ask for your help, anyway! Why does everyone think I can’t take care of myself! I don’t need anyone’s goddamn help!”

                He threw Delaney away, causing him to trip onto the couch. The pill bottle fell from his jacket pocket. Delaney had thought about returning them to the counter before he left tonight, since it had seemed Mikal hadn’t really had a problem. But now… The sight of the pill bottle angered Mikal terribly. His eyes were ablaze. He nearly climbed over Delaney and snatched the bottle up.

                “You took them? You took them from me and hid them!? Do you have any idea how much I need these? I don’t sleep! I don’t sleep unless I have these!” Mikal yelled, grabbing Delaney by the front of his shirt. “Do you know what you’ve done?!”

                Delaney pulled away and climbed over the couch, getting to the door. He needed his phone, and luckily Mikal had rushed off into the kitchen. Delaney dashed back to the couch and grabbed his phone, cringing. It was dead, the battery had popped out when Mikal had thrown it. He easily put it back in, but before the phone booted up again, Mikal returned. He still looked pissed.

                “Get out.”

                “But—“

                “No. You’re fired. Get the hell out.”

                Delaney pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes, then grabbed his things and left the apartment, leaving Mikal to take his pills in peace. He went on home, practically chewing holes in his lips from worry. If he hadn’t met Mikal’s sister, he probably wouldn’t have cared about this at all. Damn it. 


End file.
